


Chains

by Tilltheendwilliwrite



Series: Loki Laufeyson One-Shots And Reader Stories [4]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, тэг заменён на Don't copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 02:26:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16883889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tilltheendwilliwrite/pseuds/Tilltheendwilliwrite
Summary: Request based on this Tumblr ask: Question? Can there be a story about Loki, chains, and the reader? (Just throwing it out there)





	Chains

## A Loki Laufeyson x Reader Fic Request

 

* * *

 

“Loki?”

“Yes, pet?” the God of Mischief, book open in his lap asked distractedly, not bothering to look up from whatever history of whatever world he'd currently engrossed himself in.

“Can I,” you hesitated, swallowing to wet your throat. The hesitation had those blue-green eyes lifting to peer at you intently, your discomfort finally gaining his attention. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, darling.” Holding out his hand, he beckoned you closer with a crook of his fingers.

The whisper of the fabric of your Asgardian gown was all the sound you made as you joined him on the divan where he drew you to sit at his side. He’d brought you to Asgard as a gift for your birthday, the one place you'd longed to see, but you'd spent much of your time with Sif or the Warriors Three or Thor playing guides and guards as Loki’s presence in Asgard brought about much unrest. Some of the people felt his past actions out shadowed his current behaviour, his about-face as it were, that saw him siding with Thor and the Avengers many times in the past two years.

He was trying, but it was a tough crowd.

Most of that effort came from when he'd walked into the Avengers compound, bound in chains, and come face to face with you. Had Thor not been there to explain, you likely would have run screaming when Loki had turned a stunning shade of blue, rending the chains which bound him into nothing more than brittle pieces of metal that had fallen to the ground in flaking fragments when he'd glided swiftly toward you and dropped to a knee.

It appeared you were what the Asgardians called a bonded pair. The gods had seen fit to bind Loki to a soft-hearted but harder headed mortal, one who had promptly punched the God of Mischief in the face when his cobalt blue hands had reached for you.

It had taken time - and not a little effort on Loki’s part - to see you coming around to the dark male's charms. He’d done everything within his considerable power to show you he would change, become the good man you wished he would be, and for the most part he’d succeeded. If at times he pulled the odd, well-placed prank, well, it wasn't a big deal to turn a blind eye. After all, who didn't occasionally think of shaving Stark bald, or painting Barton’s bow a vibrant orange? He messed with people, but he was the God of _Mischief_. You couldn't expect him to be totally reformed.

But you'd heard a few things being in Asgard, jokes and comments which had gotten you thinking. Thinking much too hard and much too wantonly about things which you probably shouldn't.

Biting your lip, you looked down at your linked fingers before glancing up at him through your lashes. “Is it… do you… am I… oh hell,” you muttered, having a horrible time asking your question.

Concern etched across his face when he cupped your cheek and turned your face to his. “What is it? You are happy, are you not? No one has been rude to you?”

“No, no, no!” you were quick to reassure him when his eyes darkened and his temperature ran cold. Protective Loki could swiftly become violent Loki if he felt someone had been unkind.

“Then what is it, my love?” Anger turned to puzzlement.

“Are you… am I… enough?” you asked quietly, a flush burning your face. 

“Enough?” he frowned. “Explain?”

Flushing an even darker shade of red, you bit your lip. “I heard a… a _thing_ that made me think… perhaps I'm not giving you what you need… in bed.” The final two words were barely a whisper.

“Who would say such a thing? And of what did they speak?” he demanded.

Tears welled, uncertain if he was upset with you. “They… they said you like chains. That's why you end up bound hand and foot so often.”

“Oh.” His eyes widened in understanding.

“Am I… am I not enough? Am I too… too soft? Do you need something from me I'm not giving?” you asked, desperate tears sliding down your face.

His lips pressed briefly against yours. “Beloved,” he crooned when you gasped a quiet sob. “They were making fun, my heart. Speaking of how I wound up chained so often in my past. I seemed to constantly get myself ensnared in another set of restraints.”

“Then… you don't want,” you hiccupped, “me to… do anything with… these?” A twist of wrist brought the links of golden chains to your fingers where the heavy weight pooled in your lap. 

A perk of the pair bonding was sharing powers. As you had none, silly little mortal you were, you just got to use Loki’s. He’d relished the days and nights he'd spent teaching you everything he could think of after you’d accidentally duplicated yourself. 

A second twist of wrist had the chains wrapped around him, binding his arms to his sides and sending him reeling into the back of the wide divan. 

“You know these restrict my powers, darling. If you would please unbind me, I'd appreciate not having to repeat the performance of our first meeting.” 

But you couldn't, not yet. Not when you'd thought of this for hours today. “Let’s play a game, Loki,” you coaxed softly, running your hands over his chest, down into his lap, and vanishing his book. 

“You'd best have marked my page, woman,” he threatened, but the darkening of his eyes and rapid beat of his heart gave away his enthusiasm for your new game. “I think, perhaps, it's you, pet, who has the fetish for chains.” 

“Maybe…” you hedged, a smile flirting with your lips. 

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, a quiet, deep sound rumbling from his chest when your fingers delved between layers of tunic.

Your smirk grew slowly. “Two hours. I want two hours where your powers are relinquished in full to me. You can’t beg to be freed, can’t plead for release, and can’t use your abilities as a frost giant to escape your bonds. You have to let me play, Loki, as I wish for two hours.”

“And if I lose?”

“I get to keep the chains and use them once per month for the rest of the Midgardian year.” As it was only March on Earth, that was a fairly long time.

He frowned, clearly contemplating his chances. “And if I win?” he asked cautiously.

“You can use the chains on me for the same amount of time. Two hours, Loki,” you clarified when his eyes brightened.

“Done!” he fairly jumped at the chance.

A surge of overwhelming strength filled you as all his magic suddenly became wholly yours. “Oh… oh wow…”

“The timer is running, beloved,” he crooned, smile wicked and face smug.

Climbing in his lap, tugging the skirt of your dress up as you did, you settled across his thighs, leaning down until the tip of your nose touched his. Brushing it gently, you echoed his smile. “I know, my glorious dark god, but there’s something you should know before we get started.”

“What is that, love?”

Tracing your lips along his cheek, you hovered near his ear, “I haven’t worn panties at all today.”

His sharp inhale had you rocking back and laughing to the ceiling.

***

Exactly one hundred and ten minutes later, you lifted yourself from said dark god’s lap with a twisted smile. Your dress had long ago been discarded, his hair was dishevelled from your hands in it, most of his clothing was askew or thoroughly out of place.

He was panting, cheeks flushed, eyes dark and wild. He looked far more dangerous, far more feral than ever before, but that was likely due to the multiple times you took him to the edge only to deny him what he wanted. The tips of his fingers had turned blue not long ago, and the room had cooled enough to pebble your nipples and give you gooseflesh.

Getting to your feet with a decided wobble, you picked up your dress.

“What are you doing, _darling_?” he all but snarled.

“Finishing the game, Loki,” you smiled, putting the garment back on.

His brow arched. “You are not leaving this room.”

“I have seven minutes to do with you what I wish, and what I wish is to run… very, very fast,” you grinned cheekily, knowing damn well you were in _so much trouble_!

“Running won’t save you, (Y/N),” he crooned. “You’re in my soul. I can find you wherever you go. Is it not better to simply stay and take your turn at this game with the class I know you possess instead of running like a scared child?”

Sliding your feet into your slippers, you curtsied with a flourish. “I choose option number two, my lord.” Turning on your heel, you ran for all you were worth.

“Darling? Darling?! _(Y/N)_!?” Bellowed from the room but you kept running.

Five minutes was not much time to get where you needed to go and Loki, when he came for you, would be on such a warpath. You only hoped he remembered to straighten out his clothing before chasing you down.

At the doors to the large banquet hall, you skidded to a walk, well aware of the guards who watched you with wry amusement. Striding inside with grace, you made your way toward Thor. The look on your face must have caused concern for he was soon hurrying toward you.

“So… yeah. No one panic, okey dokey?” you said with a forced laugh.

“Panic over what? What did you do? How mad is he?” Thor’s question ended, and a mighty wave of power rolled through the palace.

“Ha ha!” you wheezed when a good portion of Loki’s power washed out of you. “Not mad so much as… ha, denied.”

“Oh!” Sif, who’d come over to chat, barked before hiding her mouth behind her hand. “Well, then.”

“Save me?” you begged softly.

“We will do our best,” Thor promised, his smirk wicked. “Make ready!” he called out.

When the doors at the end of the hall slammed open, the God of Mischief in all his finery walked through. He’d done more than straighten out his clothes. He’d dressed with the intention of having people remember who and what he was. He was a god, a dark one, and at the moment he looked it.

“Brother!” Thor bellowed, holding out his arms.

The call had Loki freezing, noticing where he was and the startling amount of people. “Brother. I’ve come for my wife.”

“As I asked her to make sure you were here at this time, I’m afraid you will both have to stay a bit longer. Come, sit, enjoy!”

“Enjoy?” Loki mumbled, moving toward the long table. “It is not a feast day. What are we celebrating?”

“The return of the prodigal son,” you whispered once he was close enough.

“What?” he gasped.

Thor dropped a meaty fist on his shoulder. “The people of Asgard are smitten with your lady wife. She has proved her goodness and gentle heart to them. Because of this, the people know you would never do anything that would sacrifice the happiness you have with your woman. They welcome you home, brother, your place in my court is reinstated. They welcome you to return to Asgard!” he called out, and the hall erupted with cheers.

The shocked look on Loki’s face brought tears to your eyes, and you reached out to him. “You are a prince of Asgard once more, my heart.”

His eyes darted to yours, emotion-laden as he gently touched your cheek before being swept away by a tide of people wishing to welcome him back to the court, the revelry just getting started as food and drink flowed.

It took an hour for things to settle, or to calm to what you’d come to realize was the least boisterous part of an Asgardian party. The drink had not yet gone to the men’s heads when Loki’s presence at your back appeared, and you were whisked away to the far side of a large stone pillar, conveniently hidden from view. A soft expulsion of breath left your lips when he pinned you forcefully to the stones with his muscular body.

“You were my distraction as they made ready for this feast, weren’t you, my love?” he asked, lips a hair’s breadth from yours.

“Yes,” you whispered, watching as eyes of blue slowly darkened into a deep green, glimmering with shimmers of his power.

“And the chains? Was it all an act?”

“No…” you sighed when his lips skimmed yours, feeling the heat of desire pool again in your belly. “The comment was, as you said, a teasing one, but it put the thought in my head. What would my Loki look like, bound hand and foot, completely at my mercy?”

“Did you enjoy the view, darling?” His voice deepened, rumbled like the growl of a hungry wolf as his teeth tugged your earlobe.

“Very much!” you gasped, turning your head in an act of submission.

“Good,” he growled in your ear. Pulling slowly away, he smiled a dark, devious, devil smile as he released your hands and reached in his sleeve. Something gold and shiny appeared in his fingers, a single link from the chain you’d bound him with now hung like a pendant from a thin necklace. With a flick of fingers, it reappeared around your throat, the link resting above your heart like a dark promise. He placed a fingertip lightly on the link, but his eyes never wavered from yours.

Leaning closer, he pressed a tender kiss to your lips. “I re-forged the chains after I broke them, my love. They await your return to our bedchamber.” His hips pinned you back against the pillar, causing a wanton moan to erupt when he rocked against you.

Apparently, you’d left him in quite a state, one hidden only by the extravagance of his clothing. No wonder he’d changed. “Loki,” you sighed.

“Oh the things I have planned for you, (Y/N), my wicked, naughty girl. Eat and drink your fill, my heart, for you will not see the outside of our chamber for the next few days.” His eyes glowed with mischief.

“Loki, two hours, you promised,” you reminded him, only to have him smile his patented Loki grin.

“Yes, two hours to use the chains, pet. You said nothing of other restraints,” he whispered in your ear, leaving you stunned, shaken, and highly turned on as he laughed ever so evilly and walked away.

Sif found you moments later, still leaning against the pillar. “I think you need this more than I.” She held out the cup of mead, which you took and gulped back.

Once your legs had some much-needed bone back in them, you looked to the tall warrior. “I think I may have started something.”

“I think you may have,” she snickered, leaning around the pillar and laughing. “Loki has not looked so pleased with himself in some time.”

Straightening up, you handed back her cup and lightly squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Sif.” You looked out over the crowd to find Loki laughing with his brother. “But FYI? I don’t think you’re getting those chains I borrowed back.” Giving her a cheeky grin, her face making you giggle, you went off to fill your belly knowing full well your husband’s promise was not one to be taken lightly.

He smiled at you as you went by, grabbing your arm to pull you close so he could press his lips to your ear. “I enjoyed this new game, love. Perhaps I like chains after all.”

Drawing your fingers over his abdomen, feeling the shiver you caused with the action, you gave him a Cheshire cat grin. “Bound hand and foot, Loki? Why I never would have guessed.” Laughing, you walked away, content and happy and not at all concerned with your own upcoming appointment with the mass of golden restraints.

_**\- The End -**_


End file.
